


Chance to Say Goodbye

by TheXWoman



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Gen, Minor Character Death, Missing Scene, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-26
Updated: 2002-08-26
Packaged: 2018-05-18 10:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5925211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheXWoman/pseuds/TheXWoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully is forced to learn that to move on with her life, she must first learn to say goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chance to Say Goodbye

The phone rang, and I cursed, snatching it up from the cradle as quickly as possible. William had been fussy all evening, having had gotten over a bad cold, and I had finally gotten him lay down and sleep only minutes before. Irritated at whoever would be calling so late, I held the phone to my ear and sighed audibly.

"Hello?" I snapped too harshly.

"Dana, it's Monica."

Monica? What was _she_ , of all people, doing calling _now_? She should have been aware that William would have been asleep. I quietly walked down the hall and gently closed the door to my room so that I wouldn't run any more risk of waking William.

"Dana, are you there?"

It was then that I sensed what was in her voice. Something there that made my heart suddenly tighten inside of me. Her tone was dark, and though she had nothing, I already knew that there was something terribly, terribly wrong.

"Is Agent Doggett alright?" I asked quickly. These days, Monica had taken to calling me at home, as opposed to John, who used to call me for cases. I knew that he and Agent Reyes had been working on something, but I knew little of the case because of William's ill health. My throat tightened, and I forced myself to swallow.

"John is fine, Dana… it's… it's the Lone Gunmen." She took a breath. "Is there anyway you can get your mom to watch William? It would be nice if you came out here."

"Wha-" I paused, not understand. The Lone Gunmen? What could be _wrong_? With all three of them? I would have assumed they had gotten into some of their typical trouble, maybe ended up in jail somehow, had it not been for the warning in my heart. I clutched the phone tighter.

'Where are you?"

"The Baltimore College campus. Bring your badge, you'll need it to get into quarantine."

 

 

I looked at my watch. Almost 11pm… I felt like it had taken me too long. I swung into the parking lot of the small college and parked in a visitor's lot, jumping out of the car and slamming the door soundly behind me.

The place had been roped off. I had to show my badge to get on the campus, and outside the door two men in military uniforms stood, brandishing guns. I pulled my badge again and flashed it quickly.

"Do you know where Agents Doggett and Reyes are?"

The man nodded his head in the door. "In there with the patients. Go on ahead inside, the doctor will help you."

I nodded a "thanks" and the man opened the door for me, and I slipped in, looking around. I could tell the place was in deep quarantine; the walls were covered with thick sheets of plastic, and doctors in medical masks wandered around me, not giving me a second look. I searched for a familiar face, and turned to see a doctor heading toward me, pulling a surgical mask away from his face.

'You Agent Scully?" He asked in way of introduction. I did nothing but nod. The plastic covering the walls seemed to be making it harder and harder to breathe, and I looked up at him with pleading eyes. He seemed to understand.

"I'm Doctor Harrison. Follow me. I'll take you to them."

The weight of the building seemed to press down upon my as we worked our way through the plastic and toward the back of the building. As we went the crowd of people around me begin to thin out, and soon the doctor and I came to a closed off corridor, with a single guard, a small pistol harnessed to his hip, stood, alone, watching us with a trained eye. I reached for my badge, but Doctor Harrison reached the guard first.

"She's with me. Let us in."

The guard nodded and reached over the push the door open. The doctor walked through the door and grabbed a surgical mask off a nearby table, handing it me.

"A precaution." He stated. I nodded and took it, placing it over my face, and he motioned me down the hallway, leaving me to my own defenses.

As I turned a corner down the hall I noticed Agent Doggett first, standing against the wall, talking to what looked like Agent Reyes from the back. My walk sped up, and I pushed past the doctor and reached the two agents, who turned to greet me.

The two were not wearing any masks, and I compulsively reached up, snapping mine under my chin, and searching Agent Doggett's face. His eyes were heavy; I had always noticed a sadness about him, a sadness not unlike Mulder's, but very different at the same time. But, right now, this sadness seemed to vibrate through him, and I felt the ground shake beneath me. I turned and looked at Reyes, who's eyes were wet.

"They saved thousands of lives, Dana." Monica whispered, and suddenly things became clearer. The warning in my heart became a burning, and I turned back to John, my heart catching in my throat.

"Where are they?" I managed to force out. Doggett wordlessly nodded down the hall, and I looked, seeing two more people I didn't recognize; a woman with long, dark hair, and a young man. They were standing close to a large wall, with a small window in the center of it. I turned back to the agents, and the doctor, who was now beside me.

"What happened?" I somehow found the strength to ask, though I somehow felt I didn't want to know. John touched my arm gently.

"It's a long story, and right now I can't find the words to tell it all. But, they have been infected with a deadly virus."

The burning had risen up my throat and I felt it under my eyes. I pulled my arm from John's touch, a little too harshly, and stared at him.

"What? How is that possible?" I turned to Monica, trying to make sense of John's words. I tried repeating them in my mind, but they sounded flat and empty. "But there's something we can do, right? The doctors are working on them?"

Monica reached out, grasping her hands gently but firmly on my arms, turning me to face her. "There is nothing we can do, Dana." She said quietly, and I hated her words.

I tried to tear away from her again, raising my hand to block her from coming near me. "Of _course_ there is something we can do! I've dealt with countless viruses while on the X-files… that's why you called me down here, didn't you? To find the cure?"

Monica exchanged a glance with John and reached out again, placing her hand over my outstretched one. "No, Dana. We called you here to say goodbye."

My next outburst stuck in my throat somewhere along with my heart, and I felt a presence behind me. I turned, seeing the two strangers I had seen earlier standing behind me. The woman with the long hair, strikingly beautiful up close, wiped a tear from her eye and spoke first.

"Agent Scully?" She asked in a heavy accent that sounded somewhat British. I found the strength to nod.

"I'm Yves, and this is Jimmy. We're sorry to have to meet you under such solemn circumstances. The Gunmen have spoken of you in the past."

I breathed heavily. "Yes… um… Mulder mentioned you both as having worked with the Gunmen in the past." My heart tightened at the mention of Mulder. _Oh God, he's not here… why can't he be here? First him, and now them… I'm left alone…_

"The guys…" Jimmy faltered, his voice husky. His eyes were rimmed red. "The guys asked to see you when you get here."

I turned, suddenly panicked, to Monica and John. John spoke for the second time. "You can talk to them through the glass, Agent Scully."

I felt a hand on my arm and turned to meet Yves' gaze, and we started down the hall toward the wall with the small window in it, where Yves and Jimmy had been standing earlier. The fire behind my eyes grew stronger as we neared it, and, finally, I stood in front of the small window. My heart fluttered and my stomach squirmed, as if I was about to glimpse into some morbid cabinet of curiosities, or perhaps peer through the window to hell.

I entered the sight of the window and looked in. The first thing I saw was a man's body spread out on the floor, and my heart leaped for a second before I realized that this man I did not recognize. He lay in a puddle of drying liquid that seemed neon in color but fading into a custard yellow, and he was pale and waxy with the look of death. I had never though, after my time on the X-files, that I would wince at the sight of death, but I couldn't stop a shutter from wracking my body. I sensed Yves and Jimmy stiffen behind me; I had, for that instant, forgotten they were there.

I looked away and examined the rest of the small enclosure, finding what I had been fearing to see. Byes, Frohike, and Langly sat, their backs pressed against the wall adjacent to the door I looked through. Sweat shone over their faces, and there eyes, staring ahead, looked empty and dry. I reached up and pressed my fingertips to the glass, shuttering a sigh.

"Hey, guys."

Frohike's eyes were the first to move to meet mind, and I like to think that perhaps I saw a light explode in them. He tried to smile.

"Why, the enigmatic Agent Scully. After all these years… you're still as hot as you were the first day we met."

I felt a smile break through just as tears sprang from my eyes. Frokhike's words were muddled and dim from the door between us, but I could strain to hear him, even over my own sobs. He tried to comfort me, pushing himself to his feet and stumbling to the door, leaning against it for support. Langly had let a smile spread over his face, and he pushed himself up to his feet, seemingly weaker than Frohike but just as forceful. Byers gave me a wave, too weak to stand.

"It's good to see you Agent Scully." He croaked, just as Langly approached the glass.

"Sorry about Byers, Agent Scully." Langly remarked. "He's feeling a little sick."

"You guys look like hell." I jested, and Langly smiled.

"Well, you don't look to good yourself. How's William?"

"He's been fussy the past few days." I tried to make my voice sound normal through my tears. "Nothing too bad… just a cold."

"Teach him to keep an eye out for those pesky viruses." Frohike laughed.

I didn't like this direction of conversation, and I shook my head, folding my hand into a fist and pounded it against the glass, making Frohike start.

"What were you three _thinking_?"

Byers opened his eyes, looking up at me. "Just fighting the good fight."

I felt sick.

It wasn't the answer I wanted to hear. It's something Mulder would have said.

"That's no excuse. There could have been another way, if you have just _thought_ …"

Frohike shook his head, pushing himself away from the door to look at me. "There _was_ no other way. Had you been here…"

Another stab. _Had_ I been here… had I not been at home, but here, on the X-files, doing my job… maybe I could have stopped this. If Mulder had been here, maybe we –

Byers had been watching me through the glass and must have sensed my thoughts. "There was nothing you could have done, Agent Scully, nothing by being here, except putting your own life in danger."

 _But… perhaps that would have been worth it._ I banished the thought, thinking of William at home. _But he's still a baby. Monica cares greatly for him… he would have no memory of me. If I could trade places with them, if only I could be in that room instead…_

Langly looked at me, his eyes seeming more glazed over. Frohike had slipped to the floor. "Don't regret anything, Agent Scully. That's the key in life… don't want to change things. If you do, you'll live with regrets, and die with them… and then, were is there room for anything else?"

"He's right." Byers' voice was weaker now, but still strong enough for me to hear them. "And when Mulder comes back… tell him, too. No regrets."

Langly lost his own footing then, sliding to the ground beside Frohike, and Byers gently closed his eyes. I wondered, then, if this is what they had truly been fated for; these three laughing, paranoid lunatics I had met when I was still young, idealistic – innocent, really – if even then it had been cast in stone that only years later they would lay on a cold tile floor and die. And was it faded that I, then seeing only the greatest outlook on life, be cursed to carry the memories of so many of my dead friends throughout my life, with only my illegitimate, mysterious son to accompany me? Was my life so fated to be this lonely?

I turned away then, pressing my back against the door, slid down to the floor myself, pulling my knees up and burying my burning face into the soft material of my pants. I didn't know if Jimmy or Yves were still standing there; if they were, they were silent as stone, and for that I was thankful. I wanted so hard to find a way in there, to give up my life somehow, to bleed my life-force into those men who I had come to love so much. But I knew it was impossible, that it was too late, that my medical schooling could never save them… not even my faith could save them now.

I reached out with my spirit to feel them, to try and tell them, somehow, what they had meant to me over these years… but I wasn't sure if I could. For just a moment, I wondered if they felt me there, in that room with them, holding them close to me and trying with all my might to bring them back. And, as I sat there, my back pressed against the cold metal door, I felt a surge of fire through me and a shutter of a final breath that was not my own.

I felt them die.

 

 

"Dana, are you sure that this is such a good idea?"

I adjusted my black coat on my shoulders and turned from the mirror. "Why wouldn't it be? I have to go, mom, I can't miss their funeral."

My mother sighed, shaking her head. "I know how this must sound, honey, but… you've been to far too many funerals for a lifetime."

"They were my friends, mom. Mine and Mulder's friends. I can't turn away from them, not even now. I have to go."

The knock at the door came just then, and I grabbed my purse. "That's Assistant Director Skinner," I noted, pecking mom on the cheek. "I'll be back in a few hours."

She nodded, grasping my hand in her own. "I'm sorry, Dana. I'm so sorry for the life you have been forced to live."

I winced and broke my hand free, and I walked to the door, meeting Skinner there. He examined me through his glasses.

"You ready?"

"Yes." I lied. We didn't speak on the way out of the hotel, not until we got into his car. He paused as he put the keys in the ignition, and turned to me in the car as I buckled my seat belt.

"Dana… I know that this probably won't help any, but they died like heroes. They made a mark… that was what they wanted. I'm proud of them. Mulder would be. You should be, too."

My tongue felt heavy, worthless in my mouth. I looked away. "I am proud."

I felt his hand touch my shoulder, gently, and he stroked with his thumb. "Then show it. Don't let this break you – nothing has before."

"I've watched too many of my friends die, sir. I don't know how much I can take before I do break."

"You'll have to." His voice grew steadier, stronger. "You'll have to. For me. For Mulder. For William, at least. You're all he has, Dana… don't let him lose you. Allow him to have a better life than you or Mulder could be given."

My head turned to face him. I thought about what my mother said, about the pains that I had suffered, the apology heavy in her voice… what Mulder had begun to suffer since he was just a child himself. Skinner's words struck something in me, something true that I had yet to understand. It was what the Gunmen had said, about fighting and having no regrets. It was what I had been trying to tell myself all these years; that in the end, there had to be something good worth fighting for. Some _reason_ to fight. For Mulder, it had been Samantha. And then it had been for me, for himself. Who had I to fight for? For so long it had been just for Mulder, just for the look in his eyes… but he was lost to me now. All I had was myself. And William.

 _"When Mulder come back… tell him too. No regrets_. _"_

I looked Skinner in the eyes, and, for the first time in three days, I smiled. "Let's go, sir. I have some good friends to say goodbye to… and a son to go home to."

He started the car, and I comforted myself with my first memories of the Lone Gunmen, as well as my last. I was there with them, in the end, but I was thankful for that. I had seen so much death, but I had been there: with Mulder, with Melissa, with Emily, even with my father, and finally, with the Gunmen… every time, I had been given the chance to say goodbye. And for that, for that simple blessing that I had been given so much more than Mulder was given… so much more that so many were given. I was given the chance to let go.

I only pray that, in his own life, my son will be so lucky.


End file.
